


Say It

by Apharine



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim Kink Meme - Fandom
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kink Meme, Kissing, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot, Prompt Fill, Sexual Content, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sparring, Swordplay, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apharine/pseuds/Apharine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Argis the Bulwark and Signy, his Thane, have spent weeks slaying Dragons and Forsworn around the city of Markarth.  When they return to Vlindrel Hall for a much-needed week of rest, Signy grows impatient and antsy with nothing to do.  Argis suggests a friendly sparring match.</p><p>"From there perhaps it gets a little heated? Two sweaty nords at each other's throats...I think yes. " [Skyrim Kink Meme prompt]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home Again

“How's it look?”

“Ridiculous,” Argis answered honestly, throwing back the last of the Black-Briar Mead he held in his hand. Setting down the empty bottle, he dissolved into a bemused grin from where he lounged on the chair. “Gods, why on Nirn would you want to keep that, Thane?” 

“I thought you'd agreed to call me by my name,” Signy observed; Argis gave a quick shrug, mumbling something incoherent with the dismissing wave of a hand. Signy thought it sounded like “it's not natural yet,” but she let the matter drop. “And why not keep it? These past weeks have been nothing but Forsworn raids mixed with bouts of dragon slaying. I deserve a fun souvenir.” Signy's hands reached up to the Forsworn headdress, which had flopped a bit too far forward on her forehead. She pushed the deer-like covering back, only to have it lean forward again. “Damn thing keeps moving around, though...”

Argis stood, crossing to the woman in only a couple long strides. He took a gentle hold of the ridiculous antlered headdress, trying to help position it properly.

“It's too big for you, lass,” he finally pronounced, giving up and letting the smelly monstrosity flop forward on Signy's brow.

“Damn it all,” the woman grumbled, not even bothering to try to fix the headdress that was now partially obscuring her sight. 

“You sure you're not actually a Breton?” Argis teased, turning to fetch liquor for the both of them.

“No! I've told you, I'm a Nord!” Signy laughed, finally taking off the preposterous headdress and throwing it near her chair. She moved to settle in her seat, sending a good-natured smile over her shoulder toward her Housecarl. It had been a while since they'd enjoyed some friendly banter, and she'd missed it.

“Aye, and I've told you, you're among the littlest Nords I've ever seen,” Argis chuckled, settling down in his chair by the hearthfire. It was true, too; even Signy knew she barely came up to his chest, and her body was lithe and wiry – not muscular and defined, like most other Nord women.

Signy's slender fingers brushed over Argis' thick, calloused ones as she took a bottle of mead from him. She barely suppressed a sigh – such gentle contact was electrifying; it had been ages since her hands had felt anything besides the hilt of a sword beneath them. Clearing her head, she popped the flask open, greedily swallowing a few gulps of the honey-sweetened alcohol before replying.

“Aye, well, you're probably one of the _biggest_ Nords I've ever seen. Of course I look tiny to you.”

A moment of silence passed before Argis dissolved into quiet chuckles; Signy soon found herself following suit.

“Ah, it's good to be home,” the Bulwark sighed, allowing his head to loll back against the chair. Signy found a pleased smile curling her lips; it was nice to know the man thought of Vlindrel Hall, here with her, as home.

“It is,” Signy agreed, allowing herself a moment of ogling the handsome Nord. It had been a while since she'd seen the man so thoroughly relaxed. The usual tension in his brow had faded away, his features becoming much smoother and youthful. The way the fire cast sharp shadows over his fair face, strong cheekbones, and defined jaw was only all the more entrancing...and that wasn't even to start on the thick cords of muscle in his neck, or the hint of chest hair poking above his shirt. _Divines_ , Signy sighed to herself. _He truly is a stunning creation._

The Bulwark blinked slowly, as if nearly asleep. With a lazy half-smile, he turned to Signy, raising his bottle of mead.

“To our hard-won battles,” he toasted. Pulled out of her thoughts, Signy raised her bottle, touching it to his with a soft _clink_.

“And to a well-deserved week of vacation,” she added. Argis' good eye sparkled in the firelight as he laughed aloud.

“Aye, I can drink to that.”


	2. The Dragon, Contained

It wasn't three days into Signy's proclaimed vacation before Argis began to notice her incessant fidgeting. It was enough to drive him up the wall – she wanted to be doing something at all times. If she wasn't looking to enchant any stray piece of metal around the house, she was scouring Markarth for alchemy ingredients – _and she wasn't even good at alchemy_. She'd taken up cooking – a mediocre talent, Argis noted – and by the second morning, she practically begged to go to the market or chop wood for the fire. 

And so it was that Argis lounged in his favorite fire-side chair, re-reading the biography of Barenziah, when he became acutely aware of the dull sound of footsteps behind him.

“You're pacing,” he said, a bit testily. The footsteps didn't stop; they only seemed to echo louder against the stone walls of Vlindrel Hall.

“Oh,” was all Signy said. The footfalls continued, though, and Argis found his upper lip curling in a snarl.

“Please stop,” he growled lowly. “It sets my teeth on edge.” The measured patter-patter of her feet stopped immediately, and Argis sighed, adjusting the tome in his hands. That was better.

A sudden pat-pat-pat echoed through the dining area as Signy hastened to Argis' side, bending down beside his chair and leaning over his arm.

“What are you reading?” She asked, wide, innocent eyes turned upward toward the man. Through some act of Divine-inspired strength, he managed to not roll his good eye.

“I _was_ re-reading the biography of Barenziah,” he said, managing to keep the deep growl out of his voice as much as possible. It wasn't Signy's fault she was more high-strung than he, and besides – she was his Thane...and probably his closest friend, these days. The last thing he needed to do was snap at her. “But honestly, lass, you've been nothing but antsy and distracting. You're supposed to relax. This is a vacation.”

“Sorry,” Signy murmured, dropping her eyes. A wave of guilt washed over Argis, and he shut the tome with a crack.

“No, it's not your fault,” he sighed, shaking his head. “A dragon is not meant to be contained. If you want, we could spar for a bit, get some of your energy out -”

“ _Yes_!” Signy responded, much more enthusiastically than he'd expected. “That would be perfect!” The small, lithe Nord sprang to her feet, a wide grin stretching her features. A knot clenched in Argis' stomach, and he felt his cock stir in his pants. By Akatosh, but had she always been so beautiful? Or was it only now, that she was clean-faced and smiling at him like he was the best creation to grace Nirn, that he'd finally noticed? “Go get suited up and I'll meet you out back!” Pivoting on her heel, she practically bounced to her room, no doubt to change into some more appropriate underclothes to wear with some light leather practice armor. Argis sat wordless in his chair, watching the subtle sway of her ass as she moved away from him.

Even as his cock twitched again, he felt a flush of shame spread over his face. _She is my Thane,_ he thought, chastising himself, _and she puts her trust in me as her protector. But Gods, she would feel divine in my arms -_

With a heavy groan and a wipe of his brow, Argis pulled himself to his feet. Whether his thoughts were appropriate or not, he knew he had to get a hold of himself – otherwise, he'd be distracted for their practice spar together. Little though Signy may be, he knew that if he wasn't on top of his game, he would get his ass kicked from here to Riften.

 _Can't have that,_ he grimaced, pulling his own practice leather off a mannequin.


	3. A Friendly Spar

“That's your practice blade, right?” Signy asked, feeling her wiry muscles trembling in nerves and anticipation. Argis had been right: a dragon could not be contained. The promise of a sparring match, of some real physical activity, of a good fight with her Housecarl, was enough to have her very heart soaring.

“Of course it is,” Argis grumbled, a bit gruff. Signy bit her tongue, immediately regretting her words. Argis had trained with a sword all his life; he knew what he was doing a great deal better than her. “I'm smarter than that, Signy.”

“Right, sorry,” she said, wishing she hadn't blurted the question out. She wasn't thinking clearly – too much of her heart was set on this fight.

“No, 'sfine,” Argis mumbled, twirling his dull-bladed sword in one great hand effortlessly. “Let's just start with some light exercises, to warm up the muscles.”

“Okay!” Signy chirped, getting into a ready stance. Her eagerness must have shown on her face, because Argis immediately chuckled.

“ _Light_ exercises, Signy,” he emphasized, dropping his own weight and settling in his stance. A soft blush colored Signy's cheeks – she hadn't meant to appear so overzealous! And besides that, Argis was quite a sight in such tight leather. Her eyes ate up the swell of his well-conditioned muscles and the narrow taper of his hips even as she felt embarrassed for doing so.

Argis moved in first, leading with a rather obvious strike from around outside. Signy moved her sword just enough to block it, raising her arm when her Housecarl followed up with a high strike from outside. Deciding to take the initiative this time, she stepped forward with a cut that sliced down toward Argis' midsection; the man parried easily, redirecting her into an opening toward his left shoulder. 

Those four strikes were all the pair needed to fall into a light, measured rhythm, with Argis blocking then striking, using his martial expertise to set Signy up for a perfect combination, deflect it, and carry on the rhythm. Soon, neither Thane nor Housecarl were thinking on anything at all; the near-musical beat of metal on metal was all-consuming.

A warm sweat began to crease Signy's brow, and she could see Argis' face beginning to glisten from perspiration, too. She blocked the next strike and returned the blow effortlessly, wondering when, if ever, the man was going to take it up a notch. She was already warmed up, dammit all, and she wanted to _fight_!

A sudden, sharp clang rang out as Signy blocked the next strike with enough force to send Argis' arm flying back by the sheer unexpected strength behind her move. The Bulwark took not even a half a moment to recover, spinning around and out of reach effortlessly, blocking the next shot that came in toward his ribs.

As sword pressed on sword, lingering for a moment, Argis' good amber eye met Signy's orbs, battle-lust evident in all parties.

Argis' next strike came hard and fast, sword darting in out of nowhere. Signy barely had time to meet it before one, then two more strikes were upon her, propelling her backward in a swift retreat. By the third strike – a stab toward her midline – she had recovered herself enough to slip away from the strike, whirling at Argis' ribs.

To her surprise, Argis' sword struck hers with an overwhelming amount of force before darting in a second time, the man in a lunge so deep it allowed him to circle her wrist with the tip of his blade, knocking her sword clean out of her hand. It fell to the ground with a clatter.

“Don't let me do that,” the blond bear of a man said, withdrawing his blade.

“I didn't even know you were -” Signy began to protest, moving to grab her practice sword off the ground.

“You should react instinctively,” Argis interjected, authority in his voice. “You could have stopped me.” Signy settled back into her fighting stance, holding her sword in front of her with more determination than before. “Let's go again,” Argis ordered, immediately charging her with an ear-splitting battle-cry.

Arms raised, his strike obviously meant to come from above; Signy lunged forward, preparing to meet the no-doubt powerful blow. To her surprise, though, the man circled the weapon at the last minute, twirling it in such a way that the strike came from down low, slicing upward at her legs. Acting on instinct alone, Signy leapt over the strike in a bizarre cartwheel, swinging her sword back-handed at the opening left by Argis' face. The man was forced to parry and step backward, though he laughed as he did so.

“Good!” He roared, deflecting Signy's next lightning-quick strike. For a long minute, he gave Signy the upper hand, letting her drive him back, only parrying her quick attack after attack after attack. Only when he found himself nearing the edge of their makeshift arena among the rocks behind Vlindrel Hall did his eyes alight with a dangerous gleam, and the Bulwark began attacking back.

* * *

Argis knew his swings were fierce, vicious, and punishing, each designed to strike the weapon from the hand, crumple the arms, and bash through thick armor. He put near full weight behind each confident movement, and though he could see it was difficult for his Thane, if not near-impossible, Signy only gave ground to him inch by inch. 

“Is _this_ what you wanted?!” Argis thundered, dealing a side strike powerful enough to turn Signy near half-around with its sheer force. The woman knew better than to fight the man's overwhelming strength, though, instead rolling with his strikes, twisting about and deflecting the next strike, aimed at her midline. Midline strikes being her specialty, she even managed to sneak a quick jab in at Argis' ribs. He gasped at the impact, though it was not too much for his great armored frame; it only slowed him down for a moment. All the same, Argis could see a tiny quirk in her lips, and he knew that she was proud that she had truly landed a strike on her housecarl, the Bulwark of Markarth.

“No more holding back!” Argis roared, charging with battle-fury in his eyes, and, as he'd exppected, Signy gave ground more swiftly now just to keep from being struck with the blade that moved so quickly and powerfully in Argis' hands. Nonetheless, the man scored no hits on her, even as his rhythm increased to a furious pounding, slamming his sword down on her from overhead repeatedly as he drove her back, now in large strides.

Absorbed though Argis was in the fervor of their spar, he couldn't help but notice the way Signy's lithe body moved, or the way the leather clung to her slight curves, accentuating them more than any other outfit he had seen on her. Gods, but she had such pert breasts – and Argis knew he had better things to be thinking about at the moment. Forcing these thoughts out of his mind, he refocused on the battle at hand.

Signy gasped as her back connected with rock; Argis watched her realize that she had nowhere else to go, but still moved in for another punishing strike from above. Mercy would not help her when she was out on the field facing enemies who truly wanted her head, and besides, he had every faith in her that she would pull something out of her ass – even if it was her Dragon Shouts. Argis was prepared to go flying halfway across the arena if he had to. 

As he swung his sword down, Signy tucked hers against her chest, shoulder-rolling clear between the man's bent legs. Argis reacted on instinct alone, spinning and leading with his sword arm. Gods, but she had gotten good – if a little unconventional – during all those fights with the Forsworn! 

* * *

Signy's eyes widened in surprise – how had Argis countered this move?! Did anyone actually _use_ something like this in battle?

A sharp, blunt pain on the inside of her wrist startled her; it was so sharp and intense, her hand opened not of her own will. That sneaky _bastard_. He had slammed his own arm against her so hard, her tendons had spasmed and she'd dropped her own sword. And all it had taken was the swift inward swipe of his sword arm.

Signy glared up at the Bulwark defiantly, a fire in her eyes and a snarl on her lips. She was angry – she'd been bested in battle, she'd fallen for such a cheap trick, and the goddamn man before her managed to somehow move with such power that it was actually _sexy_. Even when he'd knocked the sword from her hand, he'd known what he had been doing, and he'd shown no fear, only strength and confidence. The mere sight of the Nord's scowling face, brows furrowed tightly, lip curled in a snarl of his own, was enough to ignite a deep fire in Signy.

A thick hand fisted in her hair then, grabbing her locks in a most painful way. Using this to maneuver her, Argis spun her around, slamming her back against the rock that encircled their arena. Signy gasped, finding Argis a great deal closer than he had been just moments ago, his sword still at her throat.

“Admit it,” Argis rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly growl. “I won.”

“No,” Signy said, voice breathless and raspy. “It's not over yet.” She twisted her back, struggling against the man, but he had a firm hold on her, and was not letting her move anywhere.

“It's _over_ ,” Argis warned, jerking her head back and baring her throat to him. “Say it. Say I won.”

“I won,” Signy smirked dangerously, her eyes narrow slits. Argis tugged on her hair harder, eliciting a cry of pain; he stepped closer to her, his massive body pressing her firmly into the rock. His good eye gleamed dangerously, in a way Signy had never seen before. For a moment, her breathing hitched. What was that look upon his face? 

“Not funny,” he growled, breathing the words down into her ear. “Let's try again.” The words sent a shiver down Signy's spine.

“It's not over till it's over, Argis,” she replied, turning her head defiantly toward Argis', until there was only a matter of millimeters separating their noses. “I'm still standing.” 

The Bulwark roared in fury, grabbing Signy's waist roughly and pulling her flush against him. At this proximity, she could feel every bulge of his body under his leather armor – from the way his biceps pressed against her sides to the swell of his bulky pectorals against her head.

“Damned stubborn woman!” Argis raged.

“Fucking prideful son of a bitch!” Signy raged back, refusing to back down. She thrashed again in his arms, only to find his strength overwhelming. Between the rocks at her back and the massive man at her front, she was truly going nowhere.

Argis tugged harder on her hair, baring Signy's throat again, even as her lower half kept squirming hopelessly for escape. Only when a new, unfamiliar bulge pressed against Signy's lower stomach did she gasp and cease her writhing.

“Gods _damn_ you!” Argis rumbled, full lips ghosting over Signy's neck. “Why can't you just fucking admit that I _won_?” 

“Told you,” Signy gasped, shuddering at the contact on her sensitive skin. “It's not over yet, you bastard.” A mischievous gleam in her eye, she pressed her hips forward, grinding against the considerable bulge between the Bulwark's legs. The man moaned wordlessly, hips tilting into the welcome contact as he pushed Signy off the ground, up the rock wall. The hand tangled in her hair smoothed down, cupping the back of her head, while the arm around her waist supported her with ease. 

“Yeah? Well, it will be soon,” Argis growled, the trimmed hairs of his beard scratching Signy's smooth cheeks. She shivered at his words, wrapping her legs lazily around his hips.


	4. Stubborn Nords

Argis pulled back until their mouths were a hair's breadth apart, their lungs breathing each others' oxygen in heavy pants. A mischievous little grin curling her lips, Signy used her new leverage to grind down into Argis' hips with more force than before. It produced exactly the reaction she'd wanted – the Bulwark drove up into her, his lips parting as he drew in a gasp.

“Fuck,” Argis breathed, his good pupil blown with sheer desire. His thick arms slid out from under Signy, leaving the Nord woman to keep herself in place with her legs around his waist. She did so easily as Argis began undoing the clasps of her armor, fingers moving swiftly, with years of skill. “You're fucking _mine_ , woman,” he rumbled, finally pressing his lips against Signy's. She pressed back eagerly, her thin, lithe fingers setting about the task of undoing Argis' practice armor. But Gods – this kiss was so good; it was everything he'd dreamt about in those long days spent in the wilderness, when he was so damn close to her in tents, in caves, in -

* * *

“Oh,” Signy moaned, relishing the way Argis bit at her lower lip, scraping his teeth along the soft flesh. She could feel the scar that crossed his lips, a raised ridge moving in confident motions. Intrigued, she turned her attentions to that foreign texture, nipping and sucking at the cicatrice. She ran her tongue over it, wondering if Argis himself had taken a while to get used to the feel of this mark under his tongue.

A small grunt from the man had her pulling back.

“That doesn't hurt you, does it?” She asked, both concerned and afraid. Argis had never been one to talk about his scars; he probably didn't want her kissing them, either...

“No. Course not,” Argis muttered, maneuvering her upper body just so – and stripping her of the armor that had covered her torso. “These scars are old. They don't hurt anymore. Just – _fuck_ , you're gorgeous.” 

Signy didn't get a chance to reply; the man hitched her up on the wall further, abrasive rock scraping her now-bare back. Thick fingers, rough with callouses, pressed patterns into her skin, running from her collarbone over her breasts and stomach, as the other hand cupped her ass, holding her up with relative ease. Any words the Nord woman might have formed died in her throat as Argis latched his mouth on to her nipple, twirling and suckling round the already-hardened peak. The cool air of Skyrim blew across her sweat-filmed skin, providing a stark contrast to the heat of the big Nord's mouth. The hand on her stomach trailed downward, working at the laces to her leather breeches; the way his fingers dipped in and out, brushing her skin so _close_ to her core, was enough to make her draw a breath in. It would almost be a ticklish feeling, if he were a bit less rough.

But Argis was a brutish Nord, and one determined to best little Signy – who was reminded of this fact as his hot mouth moved to the other nipple, teeth scraping against the first peak as he left it. The harsh contact was almost painful – but just pleasurable enough – 

And then a chill reached her lower half, and Signy became aware of the fact that her pants were being flung to some distant corner, far out of reach. In fact, the man holding her up was bare-chested; when had he managed to accomplish that?! Gods, the way his muscles _rippled_ , and the sensation of his teeth and beard on her breasts, and the little sounds he made every time she gasped just right – it was all enough to drive Signy _mad_. 

“Gods damn it all, Argis, I need to – oh! - to touch you!” Signy moaned, her hands roaming over as much of his arms as she could reach. It wasn't enough. She wanted to feel the curl of his chest hair under her palms, the bulge of his manhood straining against fabric for her.

The man under her let out a deep laugh, the vibrations against her overly-sensitized nipples enough to have her head lolling back.

“Say I won, and I'll let you,” he purred, resting his head against her chest and looking up at the Nord woman with a devilish smile.

“You _stubborn ass_ ,” was the only response the Bulwark got.

“Have it your way, then,” Argis said, hitching Signy up higher. He pressed kisses down her sternum, down her stomach, over her belly button. A shiver passed down Signy's spine, and Argis made a quiet grunt of appreciation. 

Cold stone scraped against Signy's back as she was lifted ever higher, until her knees hooked over Argis' enormous shoulders. She could feel the cords of muscle moving under her legs as the Bulwark supported her, his hands firm on her waist.

A warm tongue suckled at her hip bone, tracing a sloppy line from one side to the other. He kissed and nipped at the pale flesh of her lower belly, his beard scratching and tickling her as he went. As he made his second pass from side to side, Signy groaned in frustration. Couldn't he just go _lower_ already?! Or, barring that, couldn't she get down from this ridiculous perch to have her way with him? She began to squirm and move, only to find that there was no easy way down – especially not with Argis' thick hands holding her in place against the abrasive rock wall.

“You know what to say if you want me,” Argis teased, making his third pass from hip to hip, flicking his tongue back and forth over the crease between her thighs and torso. Shit, that was so close – but no, she wouldn't beg for _anything_ – not for...or, at least, not yet. “Until then...” 

Without finishing his sentence, Argis moved mere centimeters, his tongue flicking over that most sensitive nub. He swirled around Signy's clit, starting mercifully gently at first. If he had pressed hard, she would have been writhing from the sudden ecstasy of it all. As it was, he eased her into the pleasure, giving her gentle kisses and licks, slowly working Signy into a frenzy.

Signy was gasping and barely stifling moans as Argis nipped at her clit, tongue-fucking her at his leisure. The scar on his lips and his trim beard added a whole new texture to the experience, only heightening her pleasure. 

Feeling that slow build of heat in her belly, Signy grasped at the back of Argis' head, grinding her hips forward into his mouth. The Bulwark gave a low moan, the vibrations against her cunt and clit nearly undoing her.

“Gods, Argis,” Signy barely choked out, her legs trembling over the man's big shoulders.

Argis only moaned again, his tongue lapping heavily at her clit. Signy cried out, the hand in Argis' hair fisting tightly around his locks, as she felt herself come undone. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her in a short, intense release; she shuddered in Argis' hands, calling his name. White spots danced before her closed eyes as all was lost in the sea of pleasure.

When finally the world refocused, Signy found herself gasping and staring down at Argis' face between her legs. The man was staring up at her, both eyes wide, his good pupil dilated. He gave a gentle lick of her wet folds, tasting her juices; Signy shuddered at the contact. 

“I...still won't say it, you know,” Signy gasped out. To her surprise, Argis lowered her until her legs were again wrapped around his waist; she'd half expected him to keep her perched up high until she finally admitted her defeat.

“Don't care,” Argis grunted, one calloused palm supporting Signy against the rock, the other at his leather pants. He hastily pushed the garments down, stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. He groaned as his erection was freed, and Signy gasped as the blunt head of his cock sprang up against her wet folds. “I need you.”

The sight of this massive man, battle-scarred and muscle-bound, so vulnerable, so desperate for _her_ , sent a throb of desire through Signy.

“Then, by the Gods, _take_ me,” she groaned, wrapping her arms around Argis' shoulders and holding herself close to him. She buried her nose in the muscles of his neck, gasping as his thick girth slid into her. He groaned as he buried himself to the hilt in her wet heat, his body trembling as he slid out again slowly.

“Fuck,” he swore, struggling to keep his pace slow and forgiving as he pressed up into Signy again. The Nord woman gasped, drawing in deep breaths to steady herself. It should have come as no surprise that Argis would be well-endowed, and particularly large when compared to Signy's slight frame, but she found herself struggling a bit with his girth regardless. Her fingers pressed hard into his shoulders, her nails leaving marks, as she forced herself to focus on his reassuring warmth around her, and the familiar scent of pine and earth that clung to the man. He moved in and out slowly again, pressing an unexpected kiss into Signy's cheek. She turned toward his touch, greeting his lips with hers and losing herself in the way he nipped at her lower lip and pushed his tongue into her mouth. And _Gods_ but that beard and scar!

By the time that Argis began thrusting into her with more speed and force, any pain Signy had felt was replaced by sheer pleasure. The way he pressed on all her walls was unrivaled. With every stroke, he hit that most pleasurable of spots on her front wall, and it wasn't long before Signy was seeing stars.

She groaned into Argis' mouth, eliciting a growl from the man. He held her tighter, one hand gripping her ass with a bruising force and the other holding the back of her head. Signy nipped at the scar on Argis' lips, caressing the blinded side of his face lovingly. He had never let her do that before, and she loved the way his scars felt under her fingertips, and the way his good eye smoldered amber as his gaze locked on hers.

“Gods, Signy,” Argis rumbled, his voice husky. He crushed his lips to hers, even going so far as to give her ass a slap, growling as he did so. Signy ground herself down on him in time with his thrusts, finding a rhythm easily; she wanted _more_ , damn it all! She needed more pleasure, she was so close - 

Signy came wordlessly this time, only gasping into Argis' mouth and shuddering in his arms. The man roared in ecstasy, managing to continue pounding into her as her walls clenched around him. Signy could feel his cock twitching, though, and she knew he was close. Still, he lasted nearly until the end of Signy's climax, only then coming with a roar of her name.

Argis slumped forward, bracing one forearm on the rock above Signy's head. The other arm supporting the woman began to tremble with the effort, but still, he held her tightly. Signy let her hands roam to his taut biceps, holding the bulge of muscle as his eyelashes fluttered.

“Gods,” he groaned, lifting her up just enough to allow himself to pull out of her. “That was...”

“Amazing,” Signy finished for him, her legs extending toward the ground. Argis lowered her until her feet found purchase, and she steadied herself against the man. He chuckled, one hand carding gently through her hair, and Signy couldn't help but to beam up at the Bulwark. He leaned down, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her lips, but it was enough to broaden her smile and set her heart soaring.

“Will you admit it now?” Argis murmured, nuzzling into her neck like a puppy, the arm that had been holding her up winding around her waist.

“Not a chance,” Signy grinned.

“Oh, come _on_!” Argis laughed, pressing kisses to her collarbone, his mouth undoubtedly curved up in a grin. “I bested you in combat! I won!”

“Not saying it.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

Signy laughed aloud, holding the big man close to her little body and eating up the lavish attentions he was showering upon her. She wasn't just stubborn, though – she was smart, and she knew when she had a good thing going.

“Guess you'll just have to try again tomorrow,” she teased, watching as a mischievous grin spread across Argis' face in return.


End file.
